As we choose and curate the fearless life that we desire, the relationships that we deserve, and the homes that we crave, the process is very much like tending a garden. And that’s where blooming comes in. What are you willing to prune within your garden so that you can fully bloom? Are you ready to get your hands dirty as you wrestle with your healing?
How do you bloom?
Do you open up gracefully? Effortlessly? Endlessly? Recklessly?
As for me, I tend to bloom like a rosebush: you might get a brush with the thorns first, but the flowers will leave you breathless.
Early in my creative process around Blueboy Studios, I wrote a poem about the rose that never gets picked — playing off the theme of what it might mean to falter in desire out of fear of altering the beauty of a moment. As I further developed this concept in 2020, I’ve toyed with the concept of the rose as a metaphor for beauty that self-protects against potential harms by taking on a thorny nature.
The rose is such a beautiful enigma. Petals, rich in color and velvety soft. Beautifully fragrant, with a scent as gentle and alluring as the song of a swallow. Protected valiantly by thorns, sharp enough to prick and wound.
No one faults the rose for keeping such sharp boundaries... but it certainly prevents many from getting too close.
We all bloom in our own peculiar ways. What lengths do you take to protect your blossoms? Under what circumstances did you learn to produce your thorns? Are you content with the results of your boundaries? Do those magnificent thorns still serve you?
Maybe you’ve been waiting for the right gardener to ease that thorny nature, and that’s a well enough explanation. But if you ever find that you’d like to let someone in a little bit closer, I invite you to let down your arms. No matter what sorrows you have known, the rose promises that not every love will be a battlefield.
Photos by Your Rouge Photography